Promise
by My Endless Love
Summary: AU. "I don't need you of all people to be my friend," he snapped coldly. No matter how many times he had lashed at her, the smile stayed forever implemented on her face. A smile that was like the breaking sun out of the clouds. Childhood Story. Amuto.


**Promise**

_A Work of Fiction by My Endless Love_

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><p><span>Summary<span>: AU. "I don't need you of all people to be my friend," he snapped coldly. No matter how many times he had lashed at her, the smile stayed forever implemented on her face. A smile that was like the breaking sun out of the clouds. Childhood Story. Amuto.

Author's Note: Just a short story that I wrote in between **The Ultimate Chase**. It was more like a writer's block reliever kind of thing :D I'm not planning for it to be long, just a short sweet three-shot. I thought it'd be too long to be one chapter, so I decided to split it. :)

Song of the Moment: _Crush – David Archuleta_

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Sight<strong>

As far as I was concerned, I have only felt "true happiness" once in my lifetime so far. This happiness was short lived however, as it was taken away from me – forcefully. I remembered her last words to me, as if it was only uttered yesterday.

"Let go of the darkness in your heart. . . it will suffocate you and eventually lead to your demise. If you refuse to open your eyes, you'll be blind from the light that tries to reach you. I'll always remain in the depths of your heart. . . and when _that_ person comes into your life, never let her go. . . because you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

I never truly understood her words to me. . . but how was I to let go, to forget. . . how could I ever truly be happy without her in my life? And with that, her hand that had clutched mine let go. . . the last remnant of a mother's warm, loving touch.

Father was never like you, mother. He's cold, ruthless and blinded in his conquest for power. And when you left, his state worsened. . . those eyes of his. . . hold no such thing as love or warmth. The tears, the heartache at your abrupt departure with only a cryptic message to spare. . . these feelings have dissipated from me.

I have grown to mask such emotions behind a veil of indifference. After all, those who tried to reach out to me all ran away in fear. How was I to trust such people who looked at me with such eyes? I am satisfied like this. . . I don't have a purpose.

I see no light.

My light was you. . . and with you gone, there only lies the remains of a growing darkness. An abyss of loneliness.

But, who was this person that you said would enter my life? Were you. . . lying to me of such a person?

I've seen nothing but darkness. . . and it will forever stay that way – I'm sure.

How can I regret when I see no purpose in life?

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><p>"Yoru, how is the company doing, thus far?" the deep, lifeless voice of Tsukiyomi Aruto questioned.<p>

"It has been fluctuating brilliantly. In this month alone, it has dominated almost another 10% of the stock market," Yoru replied proudly.

"Well done. . . it had been the right choice for me to choose you, Yoru. And when I truly retire, _you_ will be the one to inherit it. This, I entrust in your hands."

He then turned to the man on his left, and asked "Akira. Tsukiyomi Hospital's main branch has been handed over to you. How is it doing beneath your control, as head specialist?"

"It has been doing well. I have made adjustments to the job placings and choices though. After all, we can only have the best of the best work there. Faults and carelessness is not an option," he murmured stoically.

Ikuto lowered his head, staring into the swirling contents of his morning cereal. Ever since his mother had passed away those years ago, the household had never felt anything close to happiness. His father. . . all he ever cared about was work, work and work. The only time they spent as a family was during breakfast. . . to which he would devote his time to question his two elder brothers about their company assets.

He had wondered. . . why did his father concentrate so deeply on work? To drown his sorrow. . . his agony over her loss. . . or was it just a futile conquest for power? Power was corruption in another form, and he was well aware of what it could do to a person.

He used to be thoroughly engaged by their morning conversations, looking at his two siblings with wonder. . . admiration at its finest. But, he soon realised that their work was not their happiness. . . but an obligation to please their father.

His admiration over the years quickly waned, replaced with underlying hopelessness. "Ikuto." Aruto firmly said, staring at his youngest son.

Ikuto's head jerked up from his thoughts, staring coldly at his "father". He never truly saw Tsukiyomi Aruto as his father. . . but rather, a person who set out his future. A person who had outlined every single step of his life.

"You, my youngest son. . . I expect the greatest things from you. I expect you to amount to the success your brothers have succeeded in. . . or perhaps, even surpass them. Your mother. . . she _loved_ you, and quickly grew ill since conceiving you. Take this as a privilege of her. . . sacrifice."

The meaning behind his words stung, but Ikuto simply returned to staring at the bowl in front of him. He was used to this by now.

". . . love is not to be seen as a sacrifice."

". . . what?" responded Aruto, his eyes clouding over menacingly.

"I'll be going with Wei now. I'll see you later. . . tonight." muttered Ikuto, gathering his school bag and making his way towards the door.

His father simply nodded, taking a sip of his coffee.

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><p>As the car flew by countless arrays of the early Spring landscape, he sighed. Ikuto had to admit, even though he didn't particularly like pre-school, it allowed time away from his father. . . his large, gaping home obscured in darkness. . . to just <em>think<em>.

Many of his father's acquaintances, or rather business partners had commented that his mind was more mature – more developed than most children his age. He had heard the constant gossip. . . the questions regarding his upbringing, what had made him the way he was.

His father always covered it up by saying that it was simply intellect that ran in the family, when he had never paid attention to the important moments in Ikuto's life.

"How has school been coming along for you, Ikuto-san?" asked Wei, as he turned to glance in the rear view mirror.

Ikuto smiled in response. Wei was the only one who truly took on the father figure that Aruto always lacked. He was there for him through the ups and downs – the crying, the tantrums. . . the persistant questions. Wei was patient and kind – unlike his father.

"Nothing much. I like to think during the time there."

"You should try making friends, companions often ebb away the loneliness. . . and provide a temporary sanctuary of happiness," encouraged Wei, his eyes twinkling.

"What is the point of a temporary happiness, when it could be taken away from you when you least suspect it? Besides. . . the people there are so childish. They don't understand, Wei. They run from just the sight of me," Ikuto said quietly.

"It's just a suggestion, Ikuto-san. Maybe you should give them a chance. . . otherwise you would never know. We're here now."

"Thank you, Wei. . . I'll think about it. See you in the afternoon," he replied, whilst closing the door behind him.

He watched the car drive away until it was just a speck in the horizon, and sighed. Another, repetitive day that was just like the last. Ikuto walked into the pre-school main room, seeing that the other children were restless today. They seemed . . . _excited_ about something.

_A new toy, perhaps? How childish. . . being amused by something so trivial. _

The supervising teacher quickly calmed them down however, ordering for everyone to take a seat on the carpeted flooring. He too, took a seat further away from the others. Many that realised his presence quickly shuffled a few feet away – cringing away from his cold stare.

_That's right, run from the sight of me._

His eyes snapped to attention once more as the teacher began to speak. "Today class, we have a new classmate. Her name is Hinamori Amu, and I hope you treat her with the same kindness as everyone else."

_Tch, just some **girl**._

She took a shy step forward, as she closed her eyes, willing her pounding heart to stop. Having so many eyes on her, she couldn't help but be nervous. "Hi, my name is Hinamori Amu. I hope to make friends with everyone, and have a fun year."

And then, she smiled.

Ikuto's eyes widened, as he glanced around the room. They were all immediately enthralled by her, some sporting dazed, toothy grins. Her smile. . . lit up all her features brilliantly. Those golden brown eyes that seemed so large, so deep with emotions. . . and the smile that turned her cheeks into an endearing shade of pink.

He groaned however, when his eyes rested on her hair. Pink.

He _hated_ pink.

Pink was after all, the colour of girls, and Ikuto couldn't exactly say that he liked them. They cried constantly over the smallest of things, and always were so damn fussy about colouring. They always felt the _need_ to use the perfect touch of colours and their drawings were so. . . bright and vivid.

Not to mention they talked far too much for his liking.

Everyday he'd see them play the same, meaningless games like house, dolls or cinderella. He snorted at the mere fact of how unrealistic fairytales were. The person who wrote them must've been blind to reality. . . or holed themselves up somewhere without ever taking a step into society.

Or of course, were completely and utterly _insane_.

He liked the latter reason.

It sickened him how these "fairytales" had implanted such perfect idealisms that never were to happen, even in your wildest dreams. He'd never attempt to tell them that their hopes were in vain – after all, they'd only cry a flood and who would be the one on the receiving end?

Ikuto was definitely not good with girls when they cried their eyes out. What could he possibly say? Whatever his mind thought, he vocalised it perfectly, only resulting in more tears. . . and of course, more screaming. He found it unnecessary to place such false rays of hope and unspoken promises that he could not keep.

So, what made the girl in front of him any different from the rest? And now that he thought about it. . . there was something that irritated him about her smile.

_Psh, she's nothing special._

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><p>It was the part of the day that he particularly dreaded – colouring time. He found it completely and utterly pointless.<p>

A total waste of his time.

Ikuto continued to scribble aimlessly with his black crayon, switching to blue in order to draw a cat. He'd always liked the concept of how cats were free from everything, and lived a life that they _wanted_, a life they chose to live.

Without the orders of anyone else.

Not to mention, with just the right amount of care they'd become the most adoring creatures on the face of the universe. However, his thoughts were soon rudely interrupted by a nudge to his right. _Who is it now? Don't tell me it's that brat Tadase trying to prove himself once more. Tch, he should just give up his charade of false manliness._

He turned his head, glaring piercingly at whoever dared to interrupt him. It was that girl from the morning. Unflinchingly, she smiled at him and asked "What are you drawing?"

Ikuto raised an eyebrow. Was she. . . attempting to make conversation with him? But really, did she have to ask such an obviously naive question? Glancing at her hopeful smile and glittering eyes, he decided to play along.

"If you cannot see, I'm drawing a cat."

"Why a cat? Do you like them?" she persisted, the smile never leaving her face.

He couldn't exactly say that he disliked the conversation. . . but he didn't enjoy it either. "Yes. I do like them," he stated bluntly.

"Um Tsukiyomi-kun. . . if you're not using that black crayon, could I please use it?"

Ah, so that was why she tried striking a conversation with him of all people. She wanted to use his things. Ikuto's eyes immediately hardened, turning icy in mere seconds. He lashed, "No, you may not. Don't talk to me, you're distracting and . . . annoying."

Her eyes clouded over, turning watery at the edges. _Is she. . . crying?_

"I-I'm sorry, Tsukiyomi-kun! I won't. . . ask you anymore," she murmured, attempting to smother a hiccup.

She then turned to the person next to her, the _kiddy king_ no less. "Um, Tadase-kun can I borrow your black crayon?"

The blonde blushed heavily, taking his crayon and offering it to her like he was worshipping some form of a God. "H-Here Hinamori-san! You can use it whenever you like."

"Tch" he muttered to himself, returning to his colouring.

Ikuto had felt. . . guilty at making her cry, but it wasn't anything he couldn't forget. As much as he didn't like girls, it didn't mean that he liked seeing them cry. The way their faces would scrunch up so hurtfully. . . the painstaking tears. . . it just didn't sit well with him.

Besides, she wasn't his friend or anything, so why should he care? But, the sight of _her_ asking that brat for his crayon irked him no less. He never liked the kid – anything could make him cry and he always had that idiotic toothy grin on his face.

Not to mention he sucked up whatever attention he could get. _Just forget about it Ikuto. She'll get over it, and leave you alone._

Then why couldn't he rid of that gnawing feeling inside?

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><p>He lay beneath the large trunk of the cherry blossom tree, immersed and lavishing the silence that surrounded him. The weather was simply perfect – warm, sunny rays of sunshine accompanied with a wispy, cool breeze. Just for that moment, he felt like he was truly <em>free<em>.

Free from expectations, from the annoyances of others. . . from his own father.

Ikuto was marvellously content at this moment, something that didn't occur very often. Often, even though he was free from his family's reign temporarily. . . there was still that sense of loneliness that permeated the air so thickly that it was slowly suffocating him.

_You should try making friends, companions often ebb away the loneliness. . . and provide a temporary sanctuary of happiness._

Wei's words of wisdom that morning. . . should he take that chance? But how could he, when his "classmates" ran from the mere sight of him? Was it his fault to blame that he was so cold. . . from such an upbringing?

"Hey. . . are you sleeping. . . ?" a sweet voice rang out, causing his eyelids to immediately flutter open.

They widened in shock at seeing _her_ yet again. She visibly gasped unrestrictedly, as her hands flew to cover her mouth. He smirked. His mother always told him he had beautiful, midnight blue eyes – and that by simply delving into it's depths, there were just so much emotions that words could not describe.

He could clearly imagine the sight she must've seen when he opened his eyes. Like the opening of a shimmering, mystical flower at the dawn of twilight. _She truly is an open book. . . everything she thinks is splayed in her face for the whole world to see. What was her name again. . . ? Amu?_

Ikuto decided to bait her. . . to attempt to be civil to someone, just once. "It's rude to stare you know."

Amu blushed, scratching the back of her head sheepishly at being blatantly caught in the act. "You have. . . very. . . _pretty_ eyelashes, Tsukiyomi-kun," she blurted out loud.

If possible, the shade of red on her face intensified, at accidentally voicing her thoughts out loud.

He chuckled, amused by the innocent girl's antics. He was surprised to be entertained so easily by her. . . just what was happening to him?

"You know. . . what I really came here for is that. . . I really want to be your friend, Tsukiyomi-kun! I'm sorry for this morning. . . I now know that you don't like your belongings being touched. . ."

As he pondered over her response, a voice sharply interrupted their conversation. "Hinamori-san! Where are you? Oh. . . I suggest you don't befriend Tsukiyomi out of pity . . . he'll give you nothing but trouble."

His eyes quickly flickered to the sound of the voice, as he felt the piercing glare belonging to a ruby eyed boy. _Tch, Tadase. Are you afraid I'll take away your newly prized possession?_

Ikuto however, decided to not vocalise his snide comment. After all, the kiddy king didn't need to be provoked – he simply wasn't worth his time. As Amu opened her mouth to retort Tadase's warning, he decided upon his answer.

"Go back to the kiddy king, Hinamori. If you're here because of. . . 'pity' then don't bother befriending me. . . because I don't want your sorrow of all people. Just seeing your face and having you around irritates me."

He forced the last, biting comment through gritted teeth, knowing that it would surely drive her away. He felt a salty drop splash onto his cheek, as he looked upwards. . . into teary amber eyes. _Damn it, did I go too far?_

"I-I'm. . . sorry."

And with that, she quickly made her escape. Not looking back.

"Yeah. . . you were just like everyone else," Ikuto murmured quietly.

There it was again. The sinking feeling of disappointment, of expectations crushed by cruel reality. Never hope, never dream and never expect – because it'll be your downfall later. This was something he'd learnt face to face. . . and yet, why was there still that small strand of hope?

A strand that was waning by the second, until none remained.

He had known the outcome, but he still had wished. Wished that maybe. . . just _maybe_ his hopes would be answered.

That was why he would have never dreamed that she would be the one to eventually break down his barriers.

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><p><span>Author's Note<span>: I hope you guys enjoyed my take as to why Ikuto is so cold and the way he is. Don't worry, if he seemed pretty harsh in this chapter, you guys will see his eventual growth out of his shell :)

**- My Endless Love**


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